


You die when you are dead <3

by TurbonicFlaws



Category: Hello From The Hallowoods (Podcast)
Genre: Slight Transphobia Tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29777061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurbonicFlaws/pseuds/TurbonicFlaws
Summary: A boy who never existed, haunted by a girl long forgotten.
Kudos: 7





	You die when you are dead <3

The darkened house creaked and groaned as long rotted wood shifted in the strong winds outside. It had been storming that night; angry cries from the stars punished the world below with flashes of light that brought nothing but destruction. Thunder growled as if an animal had been unleashed in the outside world. It’s roar echoing through the forest, reverberating, shaking the house so dramatically it felt almost as if it would collapse at any moment. The dim light from the moon and the occasional bursts of white illuminated the saddened interior of the crumbling structure. It was a miserable sight.  
Mould covered rugs torn and spread out across the ground, shattered glass casting reflections of moonlight along the walls, a sad, old and faded grand piano begging someone play it once more; and sitting before that once graceful instrument, was nothing. Bound to the piano with dreadfully tight wire by his wrists, and trapped in an article of clothing that would forever cause pain, sat nothing. 

The boy was never seen, never heard. Nobody had ever agreed with anything he’d said. Instead choosing to befriend and love the idea of a girl who haunted him. Who still haunts him.  
Percy was never wanted. To the outside world, he was never needed. Why would you need something so indescribably wrong when the original copy was seen so perfectly by everyone else? Why was that the reasoning? Why was that the excuse everybody clutched to oh so desperately as though it meant more to them than their own child.

“This isn’t right.” They had said.  
“You’re insane.” They’d protested.  
“Why fix what isn’t broken?” They’d begged. 

Truthfully, Percy was never broken. People don’t ‘break’. They can endure any amount of emotional or physical torment, but they’ll never break. The impacts you endure throughout life leaves marks, scratches, wounds, that cause people to change over time to live with this pain they’ve had to face for so long. They warp, and shift like the rotting wood of an old and decaying house, but they will never break. 

The boy looked across the room he’d grown so dreadfully familiar with. If he were physically able to, perhaps he would have shuttered at the deathly sight. A numbness washed over him, as it always had, as it always will. Though, perhaps not. A flicker of hope danced in the boy’s cold, dead chest. An animation being played after a frame that had frozen for far too long; an animation of a spark. 

Turning his head to watch closely, the boy imagined a golden blaze encompassing everything around him. He tried to imagine what the warmth of fire had felt like. But that memory was long gone.  
The hungry flames tore at everything, pulling curling wallpaper down strip by strip, swallowing the carpet and pathetic termite ridden floorboards. The burning glow crept closer, and closer, towards the grand piano. 

It was a lovely idea, he thought. Everything that hurt him being torn down, being changed, warped into ash. A fiery storm followed by soft waves of shifting, grey dust. But it wasn’t real, there was nothing here. Nothing worth remembering, anyway. The house groaned, and cried as the rain outside softened, and the moonlight casted a dim haze upon the long abandoned home, where nothing sat before a grand piano which never existed.


End file.
